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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187874">Brick by Brick</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses_and_roo/pseuds/roses_and_roo'>roses_and_roo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/F, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Other, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Psychological Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:47:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses_and_roo/pseuds/roses_and_roo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I build up my defenses brick by brick, walling off the world outside, my empty eyes watching the screen while I live within my mind. My armour may crack, but this time my stars can mend it, this time I'm not alone.</p><p>...</p><p>Sidestep tries to hold out hope at The Farm after Heartbreak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julia Ortega &amp; Sidestep, Julia Ortega/Sidestep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brick by Brick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please see end notes for content/trigger warnings! (And forgive the poor editing, I was very tired).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The world is a blur of white.</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Pain shoots through me, coming from everywhere and nowhere, white hot in every nerve. Dreary voices melding together with the mechanical whirring, beeping, a wall of nonsensical white noise that grates against the edges of my consciousness like nails on a chalkboard. When my eyes do open the lights blind me, leaving only the ghostly outlines of people moving around me. The smells come through the clearest: sharp, metallic, and overwhelming, poison in my nostrils, sticking in my throat, needles stabbing back into my mind...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It's better in the dark, tucked away into unconsciousness, and I mourn every time I feel it's comfort start to slip away. Enveloped in night, lost in the ether, I can see the stars that elude me in their artificial lights. Here faces smile at me, shine with silent promises: <em>Just hold on. You aren't alone, not anymore. We're coming. </em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>If I float here long enough sometimes I find myself back there with them. Out on mission, joking with Anathema, in the kitchen with Julia or on her couch settling in for a movie marathon (the way she glanced at me when she thinks I'm not looking), or in the training room at the Rangers HQ pinning each other between snorts of laughter while Steel barks at us to take these sessions more seriously... Considering how wrong things went this time, I'm sure he'll give me an earfull when I see him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>If only I never had to resurface, but eventually the dark can't hold me any longer. They're waiting for me, angry and questioning, and the agony returns. It takes longer than I'd like to remember how to play this game, to not let these people see, not let them read me. They can tell I care about them, my team, my friends (though I'm not sure I'd go so far with all of them). Faces are plastered across the screen that covers ceiling, the only thing can see: Ortega, Anathema, Steel, Sentinel...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>"They aren't coming. It was all a trick that you fell for." </em>They repeat over and over. Do they ever get tired of repeating their words? <em>"You mean nothing to them. They aren't looking for you, they've barely even noticed you're gone."</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They show me footage of the team in their day to day, show my how it's all the same. It takes all I have not to laugh at them because they don't know that I can track every new scar, every greying hair, every line of Julia's face, and none of what they're showing me is <em>new</em>. It all ends when I do. All of it. I can almost see her smiling at me when I tell her about their pathetic attempts to trip me up. <em>"Knew you had it in you, Sidestep. Always two steps ahead."</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Night and day don't exist here, all melding together. I'm getting better at pretending again: pretending to be unaffected, giving them just enough they feel like they're winning, just enough so they'll leave me alone long enough to fall back into the dark. I build up my defenses brick by brick, walling off the world outside, my empty eyes watching the screen while I live within my mind. My armour may crack, but this time my stars can mend it, this time I'm not alone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>On the rare days I'm left to sleep long enough that I can dream, Julia finds me. She looks so smug, teases me for getting caught as she helps me up, then pulls me into a hug and her warmth seeps through me, thawing me, and I can finally move again, breathe again. Her eyes hold mine and they've always been the last things I see before I wake up before. This time I can't look away from her lips, curved into a smirk so infuriatingly smug... I barely recognise the hand that reaches for her as my own until I feel my fingertip tracing the her lips. She reaches up and my heartrate spikes, panicked, but instead of pulling my hand away she covers it with her own, holds it closer, her lips brushing against my palm and--</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I wake up dissoriented, gasping, blinking against the harsh light that chases away the dream. My heart is hammering, I can hear it on the monitor, blaring at me in accusation. <em>Shit! I need to calm down.</em> It's a miracle nobody's here, maybe I can salvage this before they get back. Through the haze and confusion I search the room for something inane to focus on while I throw back up my defenses. A spec of dust, a burnt out bulb, anything. Instead I find the screen, lit up with yet another of Julia's interviews, but this time I can't seem to look away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Something's wrong. I can't breathe. Bile rides in my throat. I want to scream (am I screaming?)<em> Something's wrong!</em> Through the panic, through the tears that burn my eyes, I study her smiling face. It's all familiar, the same carefree smile and nonchalance, that flirtatious laugh at the reporter's joke. It's so familiar, so achingly familiar and yet it's all wrong.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>It's new.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Walls are crumbling. The smile I've dreamed so many times is now pulled for a twisted nightmare, the same but clearer. There's no trace of what I knew, no trace of the certainty. The home in my mind, built up brick by brick, shakes (am I shaking?) and I can do nothing but watch it crumble. I dive for pieces that only turn to dust in my hands, falling through my fingers. Julia watches me. The warmth in her eyes has gone out (was it ever there?). Her smile is cold, mocking... and why wouldn't it be? All my defenses, all my guardedness, and yet I barely put up a fight before letting her walk right in. I showed her the last shreds of softness I managed to save, handed them right to her to destroy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I don't register the pain as the bindings dig into me, I dont feel the bones of my wrist crack as I try to pull my hands up to cover my face, needing to hide myself. I don't hear them come in or feel them pinning me back down or hear shouting or feel the prick of the needle. I don't take my eyes off her, even as my vision blurs around the edges. Julia. The same woman she has always been, smiling as brightly as the day we met.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>She's not coming. Nobody's coming.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When there is nothing left to break, the earth beneath me splits open and swallows me whole. There are no dreams when I go under this time, the dark is empty, there is no peace left for the fool that I am.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: imprisonment, restraints, medical trauma, needles, broken bones, psychological manipulation, torture, feelings of betrayal and broken trust, near death experiences, hopelessness </p><p>Sidestep is so close to my heart, I'm not sure I've ever been able to see so much of myself (or certain parts of my past, at least) in a character. This might turn into a series of oneshots where I explore old emotions through fiction, we'll see!<br/>I'm always happy to hear people's thoughts and comments make me smile, I just ask that you please be mindful that this fic (regardless of whether it's any "good" or not) means a lot to me. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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